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Hollow

You're here, I'll let it linger, 
keeping your flame alight. 
Apparently, I was getting manipulated, also, I gave you too much power. 
As a result, I have to mend... start again, 
by doing this, I need to find myself amongst others, 
as you once knew, by going out of the comfort zone, 
to be seen and judged, right? 
Only then can I find someone else, I'm guessing to "begin anew"? 
I do get it, I am just being awkward. 
The routine: 
"What is it that you do?" I breathe... 
"No, I meant for a job." Why? 
Has already been my answer. Quite fascinating look. 
Obvious, I know, but you know how difficult I can be. 
Stability, of course, financially viable for future possibilities. 
Yes, yes, great start. 
Then comes the hobbies, likes, and dislikes. 
I change every day; I have used every resource that comes into the fray, 
but I welcome any offer anew if it gets that far. 
Then comes the checking, 
are they good at what they do, 
how they hold themselves, the way they interact side by side, measure up... 
I am not doing myself any favors. 
I honestly couldn't care less; 
it's just the heat on one's neck, the watching. 
If I could do three things: forget you, 
skip the small talk, and tell the other I am anything they want. 
The first, the hardest part, of course. 
So where shall this feeling lead me, 
as she places herself on my knee, 
her nose stroking my cheek, the cold harsh truth, 
as my eyes are yet to blink, staring outside her view. 
There's no denying the reaction of the skin, 
but I must confess the reaction of the body doesn't cut it. 
I am trying, believe me; I am trying. 
It is somewhat surprising, 
for today she has been in my mind, holding her own against the past, determined to win, but nothing's official. 
I've said no to simple want, And have already seen her true colors, 
responding with what she didn't expect, in turn, brought her back. 
I am not out to hurt.
I had a legitimate reason I couldn't do her request.
I have an inkling this girl has been hurt, but she is strong, which I respect. You, no ring on the finger, but we outlasted most marriages. 
Four years into it, 
I keep confessing you should have said yes.
"I wasn't put up to it!" 
It was all me; I would not have asked otherwise. 
A century added; it became nothing... how does one adjust? 
The English slang "Git." 
Excuse me, venting. 
I am tired, you. Tired. 
I'll get over it sooner or later. 
I can wish. If I truly want to, that is. 
"Man up, you!" they shout. 
Shun that; 
I use my heart not my ....
forgive.

Copyright © Lee Norton

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